


A Little Defenestration Between Friends

by fayedartmouth



Category: CHAOS (TV 2011)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m pretty sure that this mission was downgraded from good the moment I threw you out the window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Defenestration Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.
> 
> A/N: Written for lena7142. Beta’ed by penless. It’s mostly ridiculous but hopefully still fun :)

Casey is not happy.

Casey is not happy as a general rule. Happiness is akin to weakness; it distracts the brain and dims awareness and dampens one’s sense of impending danger.

But, even with that, Casey is _not happy._

Because he’s undercover -- deep cover -- and he’s about to prove to his bosses that he’s loyal and earn a place among them for the maximum intelligence gain. It’s dangerous and it’s high risk and it’s taken weeks.

And okay, that part is actually pretty much awesome, so that’s not the reason that Casey is decidedly not happy.

He’s not happy because Billy’s his only contact with the Agency. And right as Casey’s about to make his move, get his final in, the bad guys walk in on his so-called secret meeting with Billy.

Hence: Casey is not happy.

In fact, Casey is irritated.

More than irritated, Casey is angry.

No, Casey is _enraged._

He grits his teeth and turns to Billy, too aware of his bosses looking on expectantly, waiting to see what they’ll do. They’ve already pegged Billy for some kind of agent -- though hopefully not CIA -- and Casey’s response here will define the entirety of the mission.

Weeks of work. Essential intelligence. 

He can’t sacrifice that.

His eyes lock on Billy’s, who looks just a touch scared as he waits for Casey’s cue. He’ll do whatever Casey tells him -- they trust each other like that -- and he’ll play whatever line Casey pulls him along.

Casey doesn’t dare say anything; doesn’t even flinch or turn his gaze. Instead, he stares hard, fingers wrapping in Billy’s shirt. “You son of a bitch!” he growls, channeling that rage as best he can to prepare himself for what he has to do. “You think you can play me?”

Billy’s face is shifting to play the part, but there’s no need. 

Casey yanks him close, gathers his momentum, then hurls Billy with all the force he has at the looming plate glass window behind them.

Billy hits it flailing, shattering the glass with his falling form and slipping back into the inky night. His eyes are wide as he pinwheels, face just a little shocked as he disappears from view in a twinkling of broken glass.

Casey hears a thump, feels the wind on his face, then turns back to his employers. “You guys need to improve your security,” he grouses. “I’ve only been here a few weeks and already you have a mole? I have half a mind to cut out of this right now--”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s earned his way in. There are no more doubts.

But as Casey follows his new bosses back out, he has to admit he’s even less happy than before.

-o-

The mission goes off without a hitch. Casey’s cover is flawless, and the intelligence he recovers is better than they expect. In the end, he single-handedly manages to dismantle the organization and retain information about all their clients and business partners. It’s nothing short of an unprecedented success.

His CIA contacts have been limited, though. In fact, all two way communication has been entirely cut off since Billy fell out the window.

Rather, since Casey threw Billy out the window.

He’s not sure what’s happened to Billy. The minute he formulated the plan, he counted on Michael and Rick not being far off, and Billy missing a check in would prompt investigation. Some passerby might get there first, which would have been fine as long as Billy got to a hospital promptly.

Because yes, Casey threw him out of a third story window. But he had also thrown him onto ample bushes and other greenery. In theory, it should have broken his fall enough to survive.

In theory.

Weeks later, the one thing Casey’s happy about is to be done with theory.

When he meets up with Michael at the final bust, he asks, “Where’s Billy?”

Michael’s face is tight, and he purses his lips. “You’ve got some nerve to ask that, Malick.”

“Of course I do,” Casey snaps. “Now tell me: where’s Collins?”

Michael’s face scrunches, his jaw working for a moment before it relaxes just a little. “Come on,” he says. “But I’ll warn you, Rick’s not going to be happy when you get there.”

Casey has a feeling that Rick’s not the only one.

-o-

It’s a hospital.

This is not great news. After several weeks, Casey had entertained the optimistic notion that Billy might have fully recovered. Or at least been signed out.

Still, it’s not a morgue or a gravestone, so Casey figures it could be worse.

-o-

Inside, Michael takes him to the third floor. When they get to a doorway they meet Rick, who’s coming out. The younger operative is dressed down, and he looks a bit unkempt. Hair not gelled and face covered with stubble. When he sees Casey, he stops cold.

“You came,” he says, a little shocked.

“Mission’s over,” Casey replies. “Of course I came.”

Rick snorts a little. “You’re the one who threw him out the window.”

Casey sighs. “Yes. Or he would have been executed,” he says.

Rick shakes his head. “You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“A little defenestration between friends,” Casey says with an annoyed shrug. “It happens, okay?”

Michael steps just slightly between them. “It wasn’t an ideal situation, Martinez,” he says. He glances at Casey coolly. “Casey would never hurt Billy intentionally.”

It’s spoken as a definitive statement, but there’s a trace of warning. Casey’s actions can be forgiven, but not so easily forgotten. 

No one knows that like Casey.

Gritting his teeth, he struggles for control. “So are you going to let me see him?”

“Sure,” Rick says, stepping out of the way stiffly. “Wouldn’t want you to throw me out a window or anything.”

Casey grunts. “If I wanted to, you’d already be on the ground,” he mutters, slipping by him on his way into Billy’s room.

-o-

All bravado aside, Casey realizes he’s nervous when the door squeaks open. He’s assaulted by sunlight, and the open blinds offer a glaring view out over the city. It takes him a moment to focus, away from the light and to the bed and the machines and Billy.

In his mind, Casey has not allowed himself to wallow. He knows the possible consequences of throwing someone out a window. He knows about broken bones and internal damage. He knows about spinal injuries and head trauma. He knows.

But there’s Billy. Propped up in the bed, holding a crossword puzzle in a casted hand while trying to manipulate a pen with the other.

Casey stares.

Billy looks up, surprised.

For a second, neither of them speak.

Then Billy grins. “Good mission?” he asks jovially. His voice sounds just ever so slightly winded. There’s a bandage taped along his temple, colorful bruising fading to shades of yellow along his cheek. Besides the arm, one of his legs is encased in plaster, an IV hanging with a steady drip to the side.

Casey frowns in reply. “I’m pretty sure that this mission was downgraded from _good_ the moment I threw you out the window.”

“Ah,” Billy says, shrugging a bit. “Well, I have to admit, that’s not my favorite part of it either. But did you get the intel?”

“Of course I did,” Casey says. “But don’t you think there are other things to worry about?”

“I’ve been laid up here for three weeks with nothing to do but crossword puzzles and let Martinez act like a mother hen,” he says. “Granted, he has an impressive domesticity that will make Adele very happy when they do settle down together, but he is a bit smothering. And all these crosswords are in German and my fluency leaves something to be desired.”

He’s joking. He’s deflecting. He’s being Billy.

Casey threw him out a window, and Billy’s okay. Not just physically -- because the broken bones will have to heal and the bruises will have to fade -- but emotionally.

Billy’s _okay._

And Casey realizes he may be, too.

He glowers. “I should have thrown you from a higher floor.”

Billy chuckles. “Spoken like a true friend.”

And Casey almost smiles. Because happiness is a weakness. It distracts the brain and dims awareness and dampens one’s sense of impending danger.

Casey could use the distraction; there’s no danger anywhere. And Casey could do with a little less awareness for the time being.

So if Casey’s happy for once, then maybe this time it’s okay.


End file.
